"Hmm... You truly are special."
As he walked down the road, Nightmare's ethereal voice suddenly resounded in Greg's mind, carrying a trace of inquiry and a touch of perplexity.
This was the first time she had spoken since Greg had awakened.
"Despite forcibly consuming the power of an Outer God—even if it was merely an insignificant speck—the filth and mental erosion contained within were by no means minor. Yet after sleeping for only a single day and night, your Spiritual Sea has returned to calm, and the signs of backlash are practically nonexistent... This resistance of yours genuinely surprises me."
Nightmare paused, her tone laced with clear doubt:
"Could it be... before you met me, you had already come into contact with them in some form, thereby developing a sort of... adaptability?"
While continuing to watch the surrounding people out of the corner of his eye with vigilance, Greg grumbled back in his mind:
"Like hell I did! If I'd come across that kind of sanity-draining crap before, would I have been so hostile and clueless when you first mentioned the term 'Outer Gods'?"
He paused, turning the question right back at her:
"I'd actually like to ask you, Hajimi. Why are you so obsessed with killing them? Don't give me any high-sounding fluff about saving the world, either. From what I know of you, you're hardly some righteous deity brimming with self-sacrificing altruism."
"Hehehe."
Nightmare let out a soft chuckle.
"It seems you truly are becoming more and more familiar with my way of doing things. Indeed, my intense desire to erase those Outer Gods naturally does not stem from any noble sentiment of saving the world, but because—"
At that point, Nightmare suddenly fell silent, as she abruptly realized she didn't seem to know why she wanted to kill them so badly either.
Thinking carefully about it, she suddenly realized that ever since she had awakened not long ago, she had acted purely out of a desire to slay them, without ever stopping to consider why she wanted to slay them in the first place.
She began combing through her memories, yet failed to find any relevant content whatsoever.
Only then did she realize that what she had believed to be a complete set of memories contained a blank void.
"Hey, why'd you shut up all of a sudden?" Greg urged.
Nightmare: "Forgive me. Regarding that matter, I cannot recall anything at all right now. Yet within my heart, I truly crave their death."
Greg: "Seriously, sister?! Is everyone nowadays turning into a total riddler?!"
Despite his vocal complaints, through his mysterious and profound soul-bond with Nightmare, Greg could clearly sense that she was not lying right now. Her confusion and sudden shock over the blank space in her memories were entirely real.
This cast a dark shadow over his heart as well.
Behind Nightmare's memory loss, there surely lay a deeper secret, though whether that secret portended good or ill remained unknown.
In the end, he could only shake his head helplessly, setting aside these unanswerable questions for the time being, and pivoted to another matter.
"Then why'd you sneak out in the middle of the night yesterday? And why'd you bite the gray-haired brat... er, I mean Victoria? She was complaining to me this morning about her wrist being bitten by some weird black cat, and it took her forever to tend to it."
Upon hearing this, Nightmare's voice instantly reverted to its usual lazy yet entirely self-righteous tone:
"Have I not told you before? I am exceptionally fond of this flesh of yours. In the dead of night, on a whim, I simply wished to step out and look upon your sleeping face."
Greg's lip twitched, his face twisting into an unreserved expression of disgust. "...You pervert."
"A pervert?"
Nightmare seemed to find the word intriguing, her voice taking on a playful nuance:
"A love for beauty is shared by gods and mortals alike. Besides, observing you on ordinary days, do you not often gaze upon the exceptionally beautiful maidens around you with eyes... well, brimmed with worldly desires?"
Greg nodded. "Well, fair point."
As an upright youth raised in the twenty-first century, his appreciation for beautiful things had always been completely open and upfront.
When it came to vice, he stood firmly opposed to gambling and drugs, but regarding a healthy, wholesome pursuit and appreciation of beauty, he always maintained an open mind.
So in a sense, Nightmare's words really weren't wrong.
"But appreciating beauty is one thing—I don't crawl up to someone's bed in the middle of the night, and I definitely don't go around biting people!"
Greg instantly seized upon a counterargument:
"Why did you have to bite Victoria? You're a goddess, not a real cat—do you have a biting fetish or something? Or... do you actually just hate her?"
"Please do not misunderstand, my other half."
Nightmare's voice turned serious, carrying a gravity akin to stating an official stance:
"I am the Goddess of Night and Secrets, broad-minded and by no means one to harbor petty grudges. I hold no specific fondness or malice toward the living beings of this realm. The reason I punished that gray-haired maiden was purely because—"
She paused, uttering each word with absolute clarity in a tone that sounded as if she were declaring a universal truth:
"I simply, equally despise all women whose chests are as flat as a board. This was by no means a personal, emotionally driven retaliation for her disturbing my view of your sleeping face. Yes, absolutely not."
Greg: "..."
...
Sunlight filtered through thin sheer curtains into soft, pale gold patches, showering the pure white hospital room.
Tiny specks of dust floated in the air, slowly bobbing within the pillars of light.
On the hospital bed, the pink-haired girl's eyelashes fluttered slightly. She slowly opened her eyes, her gaze still hazy with lingering drowsiness and confusion.
"Mmm..."
She let out an involuntary, faint murmur and rubbed her eyes.
In the next second, her memories flooded back, and her eyes snapped wide open.
"R-Right! Senior Greg...!"
Realizing she had unwittingly fallen asleep, Silvia bolted upright from her bed and urgently turned toward the adjacent hospital bed—
What greeted her eyes was an empty bed.
He... had already woken up?
And... left?
Relief and disappointment intertwined like creeping vines, instantly wrapping tightly around her heart.
She was relieved that Senior Greg had awakened.
She was disappointed that... she hadn't been by his side the moment he opened his eyes, hadn't been able to thank him in person, and hadn't been able to look at him just a little longer...
As though possessed, her gaze slowly drifted back to that vacant hospital bed.
Her eyes rested on the pillow, where she could almost still see the lingering afterimage of a few strands of brilliant golden hair.
She remembered the warmth of the hand she had clasped tightly last night, bearing a comforting strength.
That sensation felt as though it still lingered on her fingertips, sending a faint, unfamiliar flutter through the depths of her heart.
"What... does Senior Greg smell like...?"
The thought darted into her mind without warning. The hospital room was deathly quiet, save for the faint chirping of birds outside the window.
As though drawn by invisible threads, Silvia threw back her thin quilt, stepped barefoot onto the cool floor, and crept step by step, soundlessly, over to the empty bed.
She hesitated for a moment before slowly sitting down, taking utmost care as if terrified of disturbing something.
Then, leaning down slightly, she brought her face close to the bare pillow and flared her nostrils softly.
Beneath the subtle scent of disinfectant, there seemed to linger a trace of crisp, refreshing masculine scent, mixed with the smell of sun-baked fabric, alongside a unique... indescribable feeling that made her heart race slightly faster.
It wasn't strong, yet it felt as if it possessed hooks, stealthily slipping into her nostrils and teasing certain hidden nerves.
An experience she had never felt before.
Unfamiliar, yet far from unpleasant—in fact... a little mesmerizing.
Her eyes unconsciously grew dreamy, her pink pupils veiled with a hazy mist of moisture.
As if possessing a mind of its own, a slender hand slowly rose from her side, fingertips curling involuntarily as it began moving toward somewhere lower down—
Creak—
The door to the hospital room was pushed open without warning.
"When I was getting lunch, I happened to catch a limited-time sale on cafeteria bento boxes, so I picked up two extra ones while I was at it—huh? Silvia, you're awake too!"
Victoria, carrying a bag filled with meal boxes in one hand, had just stepped inside when she spotted the pink-haired girl sitting half-perched on the neighboring bed. A delighted smile instantly broke across her face.
But immediately after, a flicker of doubt flashed in her gray eyes.
"Why are you... lying on Greg's bed?"
She asked casually while placing the items on the table.
"I-I..."
Silvia jerked like a startled fawn, practically springing off the bed. Her cheeks turned bright crimson in an instant, her flustered gaze darting around frantically:
"I think... I was a bit groggy from sleep. I woke up once halfway through and accidentally... got the wrong bed!"
Her voice stammered out of nervousness, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her nightgown.
"Oh, so that's it."
Victoria didn't think much of it, giving an understanding smile.
She knew very well that her dear friend could indeed be a bit dazed at times, so climbing into the wrong bed while sleep-addled sounded entirely like something Silvia would do.
"So where's Greg? Did he already leave?"
"S-Senior Greg... he probably already left."
Silvia composed herself slightly, though her eyes still didn't dare meet Victoria's. Keeping her head bowed, she whispered, "After all... Senior has so many important things to take care of."
Victoria sighed, looking down rather helplessly at the extra meal she had bought.
"If I'd known, I wouldn't have gotten one for him. Even if it was on sale, it's still money. Prices at this academy are truly ridiculously high..."
Complaining as she spoke, she opened both bento boxes at the same time, clearly having no intention of letting the food go to waste.
Meanwhile, Silvia stood to the side, her face once again wearing a soft, quiet smile as she listened silently to her friend's nagging.
Yet beneath that seemingly peaceful smile, deep within the pink eyes fixed on the side of Victoria's face, an imperceptible dark cloud was quietly spreading.
Rate on N.U.
